The Boy Who, Knits?
by Celestia0909
Summary: It seems that Harry Potter's greatest downfall has nothing to do with dark wizards or magic, but rather a pair of knitting needles and a ball of wool. The Boy Who Lived, more like The Boy Who, Knits?


**The Boy Who, Knits?**

[A/N at the end]

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Harry placed the ball of wool and knitting needles onto the kitchen table and groaned as he held up the bright orange jumper in front of him. It was totally hideous, he already knew that, and he wished that he could've made something a bit more beautiful.

Soft footsteps padded onto the tiles and Harry smiled as a warm pair of lips brushed against his cheek, above his now bushy beard. Ginny shrugged her dark blue coat off and draped it on the back of one of the dining chairs lazily. If Kreacher was here, he'd be appalled at her disregard for tidiness.

Alas, Harry had given the elf the weekend off and he had promptly thanked him a hundred times before apparating out of the townhouse. He wasn't sure what he got up to during these holidays, but Harry liked the privacy when he wasn't in the house. Even though Kreacher had improved remarkably since the first time he'd met him, he still had lapses in his manners around the Weasleys' and Hermione.

"What's that?" Ginny whistled before she reached up for the jar of hobnobs on the top shelf. A dark slithery creature with wings peeked out from her lower back. Harry grinned as her occamy tattoo disappeared around the other side of her ribcage.

"It's for your mum," he muttered, dejected. "It's supposed to be a Christmas jumper."

"Oh." Was all she said, so softly that he might've imagined it.

The longer he looked at the jumper he held up, the more he hated the ugly thing. There were holes all over it where he'd stitched it wrong; the seam connecting the sleeves to the torso were crooked and one sleeve was longer than the other; meanwhile the 'M' that he'd lovingly knitted in a cornflower blue wool was wonky and looked nothing like an M at all.

He felt an overwhelming urge to throw it in the bin and he had no sooner jumped out of his chair than Ginny had turned around with a grin on her flushed face. There were a few leaves in her hair – no doubt having lodged themselves into her wild mane during practice with the Harpies.

"Give us a look," she goaded. Harry obliged and turned the jumper around so the wonky M was facing her. Eyes trained on her, Harry felt miserable as her eyes betrayed her true feelings and a look of humoured disgust flashed across them. She masked it quickly but Harry had already seen the look on her face and needed no other sign to know that it was shite. "I-it really isn't _that_ bad… It just needs a patch-up in a couple of places. It's actually quite nice, love. I like the colours, mum loves orange."

She rounded the table until she was standing next to him and took the woollen jumper from his hands carefully. Her callused fingers caressed the cloth delicately as Harry slumped in his chair and groaned in frustration.

Mrs Weasley had made him a Christmas jumper every year without fail and yet he couldn't even make her _one_ jumper. He was a complete failure. Sure, he had defeated Voldemort and destroyed no less than seven Horcruxes with his friends, but none of that mattered. Not really. What mattered was that Mrs Weasley deserved to have a jumper made for her, and he couldn't even do that. He couldn't even give his adoptive mother, and actual mother-in-law, a jumper because he was totally hopeless at knitting.

"Your mum makes it look so _easy_ …" Harry muttered, defeated. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the tile and Harry saw Ginny take a seat adjacent to him, the sweater still in her hands. "I know it looks terrible but I just wanted to make your mum a jumper for a change."

"Harry," she cooed and reached across the table to grab his hand. "You've done marvellously. It just needs a few changes here and there." She reached for the knitting needles and wool in front of him before spreading the orange wool knitted jumper flat on the dining table. She started doing some loopy hand movements with the knitting needles and wool while Harry watched as she worked her magic on the knit. "Well, are you going to help or just watch me work?" She blurted out with a smirk on her face

If he wasn't already married to her, he'd have asked her to marry him right then and there.

"Yeah, alright then. Tell me what do."

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 **Author's Note**

Word Count: 757

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 **Written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)**

Assignment # 8

Subject: Potions

Task: 3, Write about sugarcoating something (figuratively)

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I hope you all enjoyed this story x

Please don't forget to leave a short (or long) review.

I love love love reading them!

Until next time, Andy x


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